Mutterings of Sin
by PurePhenyl
Summary: Times of tranquility are ideal for entertaining, halting studies, and resting arms. To the unrelenting eye of darkness, it is also time to sew chaos. This cunning, new breed of evil may in fact prove more devastating than any standing army


**Mutterings of Sin**

_Mutterings of Enigma_

purephenyl

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"Only in death do we find solace from the endless upheaval that is strife and the arcane," the pastor boomed. He thrust his staff upon the wooden riser on which he bellowed. His flowing ivory robes cast dancing shadows across the cathedral floor. "We _Sin'dorei _must fight to be truly free of our ravenous thirst to know the unknowable!"

His audience sat still. Most sat awe-struck by the pastor's booming sermon, some simply sat silently in utter boredom. I would be classified as the latter. I certainly didn't realize magic was an 'endless upheaval'. After many a year of being tutored in the arts, I certainly didn't feel any ravenous thirst.

"Magic is an evil, locked behind many doors with keys that could curse man, elf, and orc alike!

If magic were locked in anything, it would be a cardboard box.

"As for the other races out there today, the practice of magic has caused many magi to commit atrocious crimes for the sake of power. We can examine the wizard, Kel'thuzad. His lust for power led him to the gates of Icecrown where he initiated grievous crimes against the living."

"Do not pursue this path, or else you too will succumb to magic's unrelenting addiction!" The pastor slammed his staff to the floor once more. Silence followed the conclusion of his speech. He proceeded to demount his stand, receiving a half-hearted applause. I eyed the pastor as he strode down the central isle. His poise was perfect and his stride was proud. He carried his staff, boasting authority and an aura of knowledge.

Surely he devoted more hours to his catwalk than figuring the magical properties of his staff.

I held no diviner position, but I had the hunch the staff was named "Lunatic's Staff of Clown-like Preaching."

I sat alone in this sermon as none of my friends nor fellow students wished to join me. If I had the choice, I wouldn't have come myself. The entire thing happened to be a tedious assignment of study. I could safely proclaim the fact I did not learn a single thing throughout the two hour sermon. Perhaps I learned the pastors of the Light were silly and scared.

The pastor stood at the refreshment table, conversing with a couple of middle-aged humans. The pastor and I were both of the _Sin'dorei_. The idea of _Sin'dorei _ignorant of the arcane was blasphemous. I assumed this was the reason for my excursion to this sermon.

Master feared the declining magical affinity held by the _Sin'dorei_. It was assumed the defeat of Illidan's forces cut off a major portion of the _Sin'dorei's_ affinity for the arcane, however, unlike the corruption of the Sunwell, the _Sin'dorei _did not feel the same lust and desire to find a new source of magic. Many, in fact, have grown to detest the practice of magic in fear the past will recur. I scoffed at these ridiculous thoughts. The _Sin'dorei_ would surely lose their political standing and combat prowess without the aid of magic. Lust for magic was a simple price to pay for strength it had granted. Even though the Alliance and Horde were joined to combat The Betrayer, it didn't hurt to keep sharp.

I awoke from my deep pondering to find the cathedral nearly emptied, save the pastor and a few individuals. The pastor made his way to my seat. As he approached, he tried his best to stand tall.

"How did you feel about today's sermon, young brother?" the pastor asked, placing a firm hand on my shoulder.'

_Bullshit_

"It was very enlightening, father," I said, feigning a smile.

"So let us discuss your enlightenment! Let us bask in the merriment of knowledge."

I hesitated. Although I learned nothing but makeshift excuses to stop the practice magic, I supposed it would be a good time to figure where these absurd ideas spawned.

"Actually, father, I have a question. If_ Sin'dorei_ were to practice magic, what would happen?" I tried to rise from my seat, but I found resistance from the pastor's gripping hand. He must have been afraid I would be taller than he.

"Simply look around you. The magickers are everywhere! It corrupts the mind into a false sense of superiority and will never let you go from it's addictive grasp. I can identify a magicker from leagues away as they leave behind the aura of Neltharion herself."

The information I received from his ramblings were hardly relevant. I learned he enjoyed inventing new words such as a "magicker", he couldn't identify a magi if the magi had burned his posterior off, and finally he didn't realize Neltharion was in fact a male. I sighed and brushed the pastor's bony fingers off my shoulder.

"I'll keep that in mind, father, but as for now I must take my leave."

I hastily left before the pastor could say another word. Passing the endless pillars of the cathedral reminded me of the former pastors who preached the unity of all races against our common enemies. Those men had recently passed from illness and age. I was touched by a hint of nostalgia. In this new age, it seemed boredom was our greatest enemy. This boredom has even caused us _Sin'dorei_ to show enmity to our most ancient asset.

I shielded my eyes before stepping into the light of day. The sun rarely graced the Cathedral of Light. For some reason the numerous stained glass murals did not project the beauteous light they used to. Now days the Cathedral projected as much joy as a morgue. The Cathedral Square bustled as usual with the chatter of aged humans and the screams of budding children. Stormwind forbade merchants on the Cathedral ground for avarice disgraced the Light. The Cathedral Square served as the acoustic haven of Stormwind. The booming of merchants, mutterings of magi, and clashing of steel could flay any sane mind. Deep in alleys of muttering magi did my Master place his study.

Master hid himself away in his books. He only taught a handful of students that numbered in single digits. I stepped foot on the grass of the Mage Quarter. An overwhelming scent loomed over the area; it was the smell of crisp fruit. Long ago, citizens often complained of the stench of queer experiments. The solution was to cast a charm of good scent across the quarter. As silly as it sounded, it was always nice to please the senses. I wound down the twisted alleys of the quarter, ignoring countless merchants trying to sell their junk as 'mystical treasures'. Master taught in a rather quiet part of the quarter. Many a retired magi rested there to study and perform in leisure. Master had no intent of resting his magic. He simply enjoyed the fact his neighbors could shut up.

I reached a rather plain door, void of markings. Both directions held doors similar, most likely inhabited by aged scholars. I grasped the iron handle and opened the door. The musty study of my Master had been replaced by a sight quite different. There was a brick wall behind the door. I rapped upon the wall; no illusion could be that sturdy. I could simply batter the wall down, but I decided to humor Master. I left him to his own devices. He wasn't exactly the most entertaining of men, anyway.

After a minute of aimless thoughts, I concluded to pay a visit to an old friend. She often did 'field work' just outside Stormwind. To me, her research just seemed like plucking flowers. We both were apprenticed in the Kirin Tor before we parted. She left to pursue a position in the medical department and study as a healer. I wondered if she had any comment on the current status of the Cathedral. I was sure one as down-to-earth as her would be able to comment on the weakened state of the Cathedral.

I started off the way I had come. From behind I heard a chuckle.

Surely he had something planned for me.


End file.
